If I Can't Have You
by Isabella120
Summary: The war is offically over, but everyone knows as much as they try to ignore it that the war is still hanging over them. Sure Voldy's dead, but as Death Eaters ravage Europe it brings the most unlikelest of people together to finish the job once & for all
1. Chapter 1

**IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU**

**Chapter one: Welcome to Hell, Mudblood**

Hermione Granger sat almost slouching in the swiveling armchair in front of the headmistress' desk. It was dead silent with the exception of the annoying tick-tocking of the clock. The previous headmasters and Headmistress's snoring in the frames were the rooms only other occupants. She eventually gave up and placed her feet up and sighed. The air she had exhaled blew the lose tendrils off of her face and returned to hiding her Carmel eyes. She brushed it out of her eyes. She had been summoned here at 6 a.m. which was fine for Hermione seeing as she was a morning person, but she'd been at the ministry till 2 a.m. She wondered where McGonagall was and why she had been called here. Didn't Minerva know that she was in the middle of landing the job of a lifetime as Head of Law Enforcement in the new Ministry? Seconds ticked by, minutes rolled by, hours slipped by and still Hermione sat waiting. She glanced at the clock it was now 9:45. She had lost count of how many times she had looked at the circular device hanging on the wall. _Three hours, forty-five minutes… _She thought, twirling a lock of her semi-wavy faded hazel hair around her finger. It had finally been tamed over time, and with a little help from Ginny's cure a simple spell that Ginny had discovered in "Witch Weekly". _Fifteen more minutes… _She thought thoroughly frustrated.

The sound of the gargoyle springing to life put some sense into the half asleep young woman and she put her feet down and straightened her shoulders as the door swung open.

She examined her fingernails not even bothering to turn around, "You're late."

"A Malfoy is never late, everyone else is simply early, especially if it is a meeting which was not planned by one," a voice came from behind her, almost knocking her off the chair.

She spun the chair around to see the person she'd thought she'd never see again (aside from Voldamort of course), "You!" She accused rising to her feet.

Minerva sighed, "The trial took longer than I had expected, sorry to make you wait Miss Granger."

"What's _he_ doing here?" She spat.

The slender form shook the blond hair out of his stormy-grey eyes, "You know Mudblood I am right here, and I thought miss savior of the world had better sense then to talk to your superiors like that."

"Well then Draco Ferret Malfoy, what's your bloody explanation?" She shot back, "oh and make it quick, I have a meeting at the Ministry to see if I am the next Head of Law Enforcement or not."

"Both of you shut it!" McGonagall snapped, and the two turned to the worn out old woman.

"Sorry," they chorused looking in opposite directions.

"I called you both here to inform you that both of your educations are incomplete, you both have to complete one final year, or face the consequences of unemployment later." She began.

"And we're here because…" Malfoy prompted leaning forward folding his slender fingers in a business fashion propping his elbows on her desk.

Hermione bit her lip and leaned back, it hit her why she was there, and now having her former professor confirm what might have been her greatest school-girl dream she wasn't exactly sure she wanted it anymore.

"I am telling you this because you are this years Heads," McGonagall finished.

"You got to be kidding me," Malfoy said as if he had been told a pathetic joke, leaning back.

She looked over at him, "I don't think she's joking," she said seriously.

"Why would I joke about something like that?" McGonagall sighed.

"You want a Former Death Eater as Head Boy," Malfoy said rising to feet, finally taking this seriously.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy, you were nothing than a misguided young man following orders under pain of you and your family's death for your fathers mistakes

—I don't think that is enough to condemn you for the rest of your life." McGonagall said peering at him from behind her spectacle.

Malfoy said nothing to that.

"I know you have a meeting miss Granger, so we'll get to the point—will you two accept the responsibility of Heads?" McGonagall inquired.

Hermione Granger couldn't believe she was as stupid to accept an offer like that to work side by side with no-other than former Death Eater git and prat of a pureblood jerk of a Malfoy. She banged her head against the cold glass of the windows of a compartment of Hogwarts Express.

"You alright Hermione?" Ron inquired.

"You look pale," commented Harry, whose hand (to Ron's utter disgust) was intertwined tightly with Ginny's. Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Just nervous about making sure none of the First Years fall into the lake," she said, not really telling them the whole truth.

"You worry too much," Ginny laughed, "everything will be fine."

Harry and Ron nodded in agreement helping themselves to another chocolate frog.

She smiled for their sake and continued to gaze out the window.

The sky was a pitch black dotted with stars and lit by the wan moon as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. The students poured out of the train.

"See you later," Hermione waved ducking into the crowd to find the git of a head boy. He was surrounded by his usual troupe and to her surprise he still had his fawning fan club, he was an ex-death eater for goodness sake and they still loved him!

"Hey Ferret!" Hermione called mockingly.

He turned around, "Oh it's you Mudblood."

Hermione faked a smiled to his remark, "you need to help me get the first years into the boats."

"And what makes you think you can order him around," Pansy said crossing her arms, "Mudblood."

"I am your new Head girl," Hermione replied with a fake smiled plastered on her lips.

"Well just because you're Head Girl doesn't mean you can order me Draco Malfoy, the Head Boy around, do it yourself mudblood since you worship the rules." He said disinterested, and turned back to his posse.

"Oh I think I can, Ferret, because if you don't help me, I'll tell McGonagall, you can kiss your freedom goodbye and rot in Azkaban for all I care," She replied, shrugging and pretending to examine her fingernails.

He turned, his eyes filled with furry, "I think, Mudblood, you forget who you're talking with," he said his calm tone filled with anger.

"Nope, I know for certain I am talking with a Death Eater," Hermione shrugged.

She was pinned against the side of the Hogwarts Express before she could say another word by his strong arms, "You'll pay for this Mudblood," he whispered, "no-one insults a Malfoy, no-one."

"I just did," She whispered back staring into his stormy grey eyes filled with the deepest hate and anger she had ever seen in them.

His jaw was clenched hard as he removed his arms, "You'll pay mudblood," he repeated and walked towards the boats.

She looked to her right, and smiled slightly, so his posse didn't see, before walking after him. They worked in utmost silence getting the petrified first years into the boats and finally She bid Hagrid good luck and wordlessly they climbed aboard the last threstal filled carriage. They said nothing the whole ride and once they arrived they separated making their way to their respective tables.

"What were you doing with the git of a death eater Malfoy," Ron whispered.

"He's head boy," she whispered softly.

"Head boy," echoed Ginny.

"They made a Death Eater, Head Boy," Harry stated in disbelief.

"Yeah," She muttered and was glad when McGonagall motioned for the first years to be brought forward to be sorted.

The feast continued as it normally did but everyone was very aware of the missing presences that made Hogwarts, Hogwarts. Dumbledore's being the most significant, as McGonagall tried to take his place. But everyone knew, McGonagall including, that no-one would ever be able to take the place of Dumbledore the way he did. Draco Malfoy was not mentioned by Harry, Ron, or Ginny again, much to Hermione's pleasure who wished to focus on the good parts about being back at Hogwarts an "Eighth Year" as the younger students had so named them, seeing as everyone had to repeat their year on top of the new students entering this year. The Castle had been restored and expanded for the sake of the extra students. The students who would have been seventh years were now called eighth years. Sixth years were now seventh years. Fifth years were now sixth years. Fourth years were now fifth years, and so on and so forth. There were a lot more teachers this time and because of the amount of students there was now one extra hour added to class times. McGonagall finally dismissed everyone, "And will Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, this year's heads, please remain behind," she concluded.

Harry and Ron shot her a worried look. She turned to Ginny, and back to them, "I'll be fine guys, after all these years I think I can handle myself."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but after seeing Ginny's face closed it and restrained Ron with his arm.

"Good luck," Ginny said brightly.

"You're going to need it," Harry and Ron muttered under their breath defeated, and followed Ginny out of the hall with the rest of the students.

Hermione and Malfoy met McGonagall at the teacher's table in the abandoned hall. They glanced over at each other and glared and turned back to McGonagall sweetly.

"Follow me," McGonagall commanded and led them through the hallways to the fourth floor and to the newer side of Hogwarts. She finally reached a portrait of a girl around 12 with straw blond hair. An elegant crown rested on top her head, a regal deep blue cloak wrapped around her as she sat in the middle of a field of flowers with a castle in the back round. She had soft blue eyes and a smile that you couldn't tell if she was happy or sad.

"Good day Serena," McGonagall greeted.

She nodded low in acknowledgement and returned to her pose.

McGonagall turned to Hermione and Malfoy, "The password is infirmus Rosa." The girl smiled her sad smile once more and swung open revealing a narrow stone lined staircase leading upstairs. McGonagall led them upstairs and as the portrait swung closed Hermione noticed a pool of light coming from a narrow castle window up ahead. They ended up in a cozy but small common room with a grey sofa and a large window with sheer white curtains overlooking Hogwarts grounds. On the right side of the room was a marble grey island and a small kitchen with a white, stainless steel, and grey marble theme. Up a curved spiral staircase hugging the wall between the common room and the kitchen was a balcony with two doors which could be seen from the rooms below. Hanging off the common room was a small circular room with windows all around and a curved window seat.

"This would be heaven if I didn't have to share it with a mudblood," Draco muttered.

"Back at you, but instead I am sharing it with a Ferret," Hermione muttered back.

"You probably already guessed this is the Head's suite," McGonagall stated.

"When…Percy was Head boy, he didn't have separate quarters," Hermione began a bit confused.

"True, while we were building the newer part of the Hogwarts, we built this because we had room and plus this is like a thank you the work that the Head's do," McGonagall replied.

"More like a punishment," Draco muttered only loud enough for Hermione to hear.

"I just want to remind you about patrol duty, the teachers will cover your swift tonight but from tomorrow on you'll patrol either together or switch off every other day. The ministry wants you be able to cook before you leave so all seventh years must cook at least one meal, hence the kitchen, and lastly as Heads you must be on your best behavior at all times." McGonagall instructed, "Any questions?"

They shook their heads wordlessly no.

"Very well, I'll let you settle in and get to bed," She finished and swept from the room.

They looked at each other as the portrait closed, and frowned.

"Welcome to hell, mudblood."

**A/N: So this just popped into my head, three days ago and I was like well I need to write this down, Writing Inspiration…If I can't Have you by Kelly Clarkson. No I am not abandoning I Do care, Plan B, This only Happens in Movies, … Additional notes: The portrait described above is an actual painting I just forgot who painted it and what exactly it's called… but no credit to me, and the password infirmus rosa is Latin for delicate rose, don't ask it just popped into my head.**

**~Bella**


	2. ch 2 IHJG do not fall over an idiot

**IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU**

**Chapter Two—** **I Hermione Jean Granger do not fall over a stupid idiot because of his looks**

"_Welcome to hell, Mudblood."_

Hermione, not seeing this worthy enough for her to comment on, merely walked past him and up the staircase to her new room. She knew it was her room because: Miss Hermione Granger, Head Girl was inscribed onto the door. She opened the door to reveal a full iron four-poster bed. The whole back wall was pretty much all windows with long sheer white curtains like in the common room. The walls were a pale gold, there was a door on the east and west walls. There were several large bookcases and a large wooden desk for her convenience. She opened the east door and stepped into the large bare closet, she stared at it in confusion. She tried the west door and found a bathroom twice the size of the perfect bathrooms, to her utter dismay she noticed there was a door on the exact opposite side that meant she was going to have the immense _pleasure _of sharing it with no-other than ferret boy. She walked back into her room, confused. Where the heck were her trunks?

"Hey! Granger! Your stuff is here!" Malfoy's voice called, annoyed.

She let the door slam shut and leaned over the side of the balcony looking down at the scene below her in utmost disbelief.

"What. The. Bloody. Heck. Are. You. Doing?" She managed to gasp, punctuating each word sharply.

Malfoy didn't even bother to turn her way still directing the House Elves where to put the white grand Piano. Coming to her senses, she rushed down the staircase almost dusting the railing barely touching it as she flew to the bottom. She paused noticing her two trunks amongst the twelve by Malfoy's feet.

"Yeah, yeah there, no-no over to the left two feet, no still not right. Go two feet backwards, still not it go to two feet to the right. Yeah, almost…" Malfoy directed waving his hands in a way anyone but him would be wildly, but it just suited him.

"Malfoy!" Hermione all but shrieked her voice shrill and shooting through two soprano octaves.

Malfoy turned around and faced her, paying her the first bit of attention she'd been given since he called her, "What?" he inquired in a bored monotone, crossing his arms.

"_You _Can't Just PUT A GRAND PANIO IN OURSUNROOM!" She continued in the same tone as earlier.

He rolled his eyes, "I just did," he said, repeating her words from earlier, in the same bored tone. He turned back to the House Elves still holding the huge grand piano, "two feet to the front. Good, Perfect!" He finished throwing up his arms in triumph, somehow _not _looking like an utter idiot like anyone else would have.

"It's exactly where it started," Hermione said in a calm voice but still seething.

Malfoy turned to face her, "So?" he shrugged.

"Would missus like her trunks brought to her room?" a house elf asked tugging gently at her robe.

"You don't—uh-that would be nice," Hermione started and after looking at it's disappointed face, changed her mind. Two elves picked up her trunks and brought them to her room.

Malfoy rolled her eyes at her supposed "Stupidity", "well if that's it Mudblood, I have people to met, places to see…"

"At ten o'clock?" Hermione responded with an arch of her eyebrow like _she_ would believe _that_.

"You know what I mean, I do not wish to spend unnecessary time in the presence of a mudblood, not to mind a shrieking one at that," He replied bored, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Very well, Malfoy," She said fighting every ounce of her not to scream bloody murder in his face, he probably deserved it—but it was not worth the effort of letting him have the satisfaction of seeing her break. "Good day," she said dismissively.

"It's the nighttime," Malfoy said slowly.

"Very well, goodnight Malfoy," she finished with a flourish and returned to her room without a second glance.

~*~

The next morning she made herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, scanning the "Daily Prophet" attempting to engage herself in something to keep her occupied until Harry, Ginny, and Ron were up. She was surprised to hear footsteps on the stairs. She looked up even though she knew it was him.

"Malfoy?" she said in disbelief unable to stop herself. Malfoy was in nothing but a pair of green boxers and a green bathrobe, thrown open to expose his well muscled chest. He pulled a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee effortlessly.

"Surprised to see me up, Granger? Or mad with yourself that you like what you see?" He smirked.

She opened her mouth in utmost disgust, "You. Malfoy. Are. A. Sick. Pervert. If. You. Honestly. Believe. I—I"

"You like what you see," Malfoy supplied smirking evilly.

"Yeah, that. I didn't know you were a morning person, Malfoy," She said changing the subject.

"I object to being a pervert, but yes I am one, I am surprised Granger I thought you were more observant than Scar-head and Weasel," He shrugged and took another sip of his coffee.

"Was that a compliment?" Hermione inquired in disbelief, holding her mug in midair.

"Carmel, I should have known, what a girly flavor," Malfoy commented jabbing a finger at the mug.

"That wasn't the answer to the question I asked, Malfoy," She said smiling fakly.

"Of course it wasn't a compliment, Mudblood, why would I ever compliment _you_? Why do _you_ wish I would?" Malfoy sneered tauntingly.

She stood up, and shouldered her book bag, "You're impossible Malfoy."

"Well what did you expect?" He shrugged holding his hands out in a questioning gesture.

She turned around, still fingering the strap of her messenger bag; she rolled her eyes getting frustrated and bored, "I don't know Malfoy, but will you just stop it's giving me a headache."

He smirked, "Never."

She shrugged, "It was worth a shot," and without another word walked out letting the portrait swing shut behind her quickly so she didn't have to hear his response.

She met Harry, Ginny, and Ron at the Great Hall who were all sitting at their usual spots at the crowded Gryffindor table.

"You're alive," Ron laughed without humor.

"Yeah," she replied dismissively, reaching for the batch of steaming strawberry and chocolate chip pancakes and whipped cream.

"So," Harry begun.

"So what's it like living with ferret-boy?" Ginny finished eager to hear her answer.

"You have to live with The Draco Malfoy!" Lavender gasped, eying Malfoy as he walked in and situated himself with his posse.

"Uh-yeah," Hermione answered reluctantly. She shut her eyes and covered her ears as Lavender shrieked, "O my Malfoy you are LIVING WITH THE DRACO MALFOY!"

Pretty much the entire hall turned to the Gryffindor table to stare at Hermione Granger.

Malfoy looked over amused at her response to the outburst. She finally removed her hands from her ears.

"Uh-yeah, so?" she shrugged.

"SO!?" Lavender all but shrieked, "SO!"

Hermione's hands flew to her ears again, and then let go as Lavender waited for her response, "It's Ferret Boy, remember, that's like my personal hell. Now can you stop screaming in my ear?"

"Do you know how many girls would just die for your place?" Lavender nearly squealed unhappily.

"I didn't know there was a lot of competition for Head Girl," she said, fully aware _**everyone**_ was listening in on this conversation.

"Not Head Girl, you idiot, living with The Draco Malfoy," Lavender reprimanded, "and they call you the smartest witch in this school," she muttered.

"I think it was the century," Ron said his mouth full of food.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's bad habits, "like I didn't know, but you know what I don't care. I can't believe how incredibly shallow you are Lavender, I Hermione Jean Granger do not fall over a stupid idiot because of his looks." She said rising to her feet, angrily. Accepting her schedule from an amused Minerva McGonagall she strode out of the hall.

**A/N: So here it is, what do you think? Thanks for all your great reviews! It means a lot! Are the character's in-character enough or are they too overdone? Writing Inspiration: My life would suck without you—Kelly Clarkson. Please review!**

**~Bella**

**P.s. Remember… Reviews=Happy Author which= a quick update!**


	3. Chapter 3Draco Malfoy is an utter git

**If I Can't Have You**

**Chapter Three—Draco Malfoy is an utter git**

"_I didn't know there was a lot of competition for Head Girl," she said, fully aware __**everyone**__ was listening in on this conversation._

"_Not Head Girl, you idiot, living with The Draco Malfoy," Lavender reprimanded, "and they call you the smartest witch in this school," she muttered._

"_I think it was the century," Ron said his mouth full of food._

_Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's bad habits, "like I didn't know, but you know what I don't care. I can't believe how incredibly shallow you are Lavender, I Hermione Jean Granger do not fall over a stupid idiot because of his looks." She said rising to her feet, angrily. Accepting her schedule from an amused Minerva McGonagall she strode out of the hall. _

~*~

She could hear the once silent Great Hall burst into whispers, rumors forming on the spot. She sighed, she felt bad blowing up at Lavender like that but her _**Nerve **_to insinuate that _she _was as _shallow_ to just go after Draco Malfoy, A Former Death Eater for crying out loud, merely for his undeniable looks. It was only deniable to his face, not like he needed her to join his pathetic Draco Ferret Malfoy is _**hot **_club, he had the rest of the girls in the school to sign up for _that_ as their unofficial extracurricular activity. She fumed to her first class, a grand total of twenty minutes early and slumped in the chair at the desk in the front of the empty abandoned completely silent classroom.

She fumed in silent anger flipping through the first six chapters of their new Potion's book, until people started to reluctantly file in 5 minutes before class started. She continued to flip through the pages but appeared to look indifferent and excited about the start of the new school year. Everyone stared at her, she ignored them. Everyone talked; she pretended she didn't hear them. Slughorn made his way to the front of the room. No sooner than the words left his lips, her hand was in the air in a flash but almost lazily there was no competition.

"Yes," Slughorn began, she opened her mouth to speak but Slughorn's words surprised her, "Mister Malfoy."

She turned in her chair to look at Malfoy, who lazily drawled the answer even bothering to mention all the extra stuff she would have.

"Excellent, Mister Malfoy, ten points to Slytherin," he nodded. She glared at him, the look of utmost loathing and returned her attention to the front. The next question she was faster. "Miss Granger," Slughorn said pointing at her.

"Marvelous," Slughorn boomed in response to her long recited answer. Malfoy rolled his eyes as she gave him her now-who's-better-yeah-and-I-don't-care look.

The talking only continued to get worse, as they competed with answering the questions in every class of the day. Ron and Harry didn't speak a word to her all day. Ginny shot her apologetic looks her way as they walked past each other in the hallways each in a hurry to get to their next class. DADA was the last class of the day. Frustrated Hermione stabbed her period on the essay Snape was making them start in the last five minutes left in class. She continued to write furiously pointedly ignoring Malfoy's laughter, obviously it was about her performance earlier today as he and Zabini kept on looking over their shoulder and laughing. Professor Lark swept throughout the room totally ignoring the Slytherin side of the room, yet taking every chance to take points away from the Gryffindors.

"I swear he's just like Snape," Ron muttered darkly.

"He's totally not biased in the sightless," Harry added under his breath.

"Mr. Weasely and Mr. Potter what part of not talking unless I permit you to do so don't you get?" Lack snapped icily.

"Malfoy's been talking your entire class," Ron protested.

"Potter, Weasely Detention my office at eight and don't be late!" He snapped, moving behind the desk the three shared. Without warning Lark snatched her essay from off of her desk.

"Draco Malfoy is an utter Git," he read, and lowered the paper, "is _not _relevant to the subject of why nonverbal defensive spells give an advantage to the caster." The classroom roared with laughter.

"Silence!" Lark commanded in a sneer almost in a scream. The room fell silent, even Malfoy who had not moved from his shocked position still staring at her in utter disbelief. "Tut-tut Granger, _really _from what I've heard about you from the other teachers I expected better from you," Lark sneered.

Hermione flinched, and waited for him to continue. The bell rung and everyone thoroughly through with school, especially seeing as an extra hour had been added to class times, jumped to their feet and literally through their books and supplies into their bags, eager to run out the door.

"The essay is due Wednesday, class dismissed!" Lark hollered after the leaving students.

Hermione snatched her half completed essay and went to place it in her bag when Lark stopped her, "Next time Miss Granger, don't embarrass yourself further than this morning because you know how I grade essays about Malfoy's being git's, with **T**'s and I think you're smart enough to know that stands for Troll."

Hermione flinched again, sliding the essay into her bag, "Yes sir," she said timidly.

"Good, Leave!" He sneered pointing to the door.

She didn't waste a minute getting to her feet and rushing out the door. The hallway ahead thankfully was empty; however, a hand shot out and grabbed her arm pulling her to face no other than the git of a Draco Malfoy leaning bored on the wall outside the classroom. She stared at him in horror, he smirked in amusement.

"Draco Malfoy is a git, is he now?" He smirked pushing off against the wall as she took a step back.

She summoned all her courage, "yes," seeing the shock on his face for the briefest fraction of a second before forming an intimidating iron emotionless mask once more gave her the strength to continue, "And he knows it," she whispered.

His arms pinned her against the wall, "you really shouldn't have said that," he whispered.

"What are you going to do about it?" She whispered, not really sure where all this courage had come from.

"We'll see about that," he said and without further ado dropped his arms to his sides and walked away down the empty hallway.

**A/N: Writing Inspiration: Cry—Kelly Clarkson**

**If anyone is wondering, no this isn't a song fic it's just the songs that inspire me to write each chapter. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed, especially Heather for her long constructive reviews and for being the only one to review the last chapter. Please review! Thanks!**

**~Bella**


	4. Chapter 4 Harry and Ron attempt to cook

**If I can't Have You**

**Chapter four In Which Ron and Harry blow up the Gryffindor Kitchen in attempt to cook**

"_Draco Malfoy is a git, is he now?" He smirked pushing off against the wall as she took a step back._

_She summoned all her courage, "yes," seeing the shock on his face for the briefest fraction of a second before forming an intimidating iron emotionless mask once more gave her the strength to continue, "And he knows it," she whispered._

_His arms pinned her against the wall, "you really shouldn't have said that," he whispered._

"_What are you going to do about it?" She whispered, not really sure where all this courage had come from._

"_We'll see about that," he said and without further ado dropped his arms to his sides and walked away down the empty hallway._

~*~

She hurried down the opposite hallway; she didn't know where all the bravado had come from and why the whole encounter bothered her so much. She walked past all the whispering, most likely gossiping about her latest incident, students and to the lake. She sat at her favorite secret spot hidden on the edge of the forbidden forest by dense brush and thickets. An old oak hung a green canopy over head sheltering her from the last of the sun's glares and she seated herself on the rock at the waters edge. She pulled her knees close and tucked her chin in resting her forehead on top of them. Why? She thought, Why me? She sighed and pulled out her DADA essay writing everything from her memory of the Hogwarts library, she didn't dare go there if she didn't want to be disturbed for it was the first place they'd look. She made sure to start it on a clean sheet of parchment and not to write Draco Malfoy is an utter git on it. She loved to read, and just because she was gifted and well motivated didn't necessarily make her "the bookworm—stupid know-it-all" everyone thought she was. She prided herself in being the best, because everyone else couldn't grasp or memorize concepts as well as she could. Pride was a downfall, she always struggled with because she knew she was the best and she struggled to see other's good points. Mildly prejudiced against those who those who didn't know as much as she did, never outwardly but somewhere in the mist of her mind she struggled to not categorize them as stupid because they didn't know as much as she did. She sought comfort in things that were steady, in routine, and familiar— books were for those most part unchanging, and so were the truths contained in them. She liked coming here because it was always there when others had brought her down. With a sigh she brushed the tendrils of hair out of her eyes and shouldering her bag she headed up to the head's dorm.

"Hello," said the soprano high voice.

Hermione was snapped out of her thoughts, "Oh hi Serena," she said politely, "infirmus Rosa."

"Have a good day," she wished swinging open.

"Thanks, you too," Hermione replied, hoping she would.

She opened the fridge after setting her bag against the couch she got to work marinating chicken with Italian dressing, and peeled four potatoes she placed them in the pot of boiling water. She'd made a little bit extra just incase. The Ferret Git of a Malfoy was not there so she didn't even bother to specifically make him anything, if worst came to worst he could have the extra. She sat down with one of her favorite books _Pride and Prejudice_, sitting on one of the couches. She had barely gotten to the ball scene in which Elizabeth Bennet overhears Mr. Darcy say she isn't pretty enough to tempt him, when the door swung open. She raised an eyebrow at his state. He was wearing his silver and green Quidditch robes clutching his broom in one hand, muddy and sweating with mud in his usual perfect hair, and if that wasn't enough of a sight he was positively enraged. There was a fire in his gray eyes of anger and hate.

"What happened?" she all but laughed

"You don't want to know," he all but spat.

"More like you don't want me to know," she choked back a laugh.

"I don't answer to questions I don't want to answer, where is dinner?" he demanded not finding this situation funny in the slightest.

"In the fridge," she shrugged.

He frowned and turned to the fridge pulling it open, he stared at it in confusion for a minute, "There's nothing in here but ingredients," he spat.

"Exactly," she returned glancing up from her book, "you need to make it yourself, don't touch my chicken or potatoes either."

He all but slammed the door shut, spinning angrily to her, "You made food, for yourself and not for me?"

"Yep," she clarified and returned to her book. She heard him stamp up the stairs realizing he was not going to get her attention and the shower run from in the bathroom. She put the chicken in the oven, and returned to her book, half asleep.

"That's it, I've had it with you, first you make a public spectacle of me at Breakfast in the great hall, then you embarrass me in DADA, and now you make food for only yourself, and I don't know why I am going to be so nice but I am going to make you a simple offer to fix the food situation," He began.

"Because you realize if you're not nice you'll never get anywhere," she interjected.

"I'll cook on Sunday night, and you can cook the rest," he continued as if she had never spoken, leaning against the wall.

She smiled cockily at him, "So you cook one day and I cook seven correct?"

"Yeah," he reaffirmed looking at her in confusion.

"Are you Bloody Nuts!" she shrieked.

He flinched at her sudden outburst, "No but apparently you are."

"No, Mr. I-never-have-to-work-a-day-in-my-life I am not going to cook six days a week!" she protested, rising to her feet.

"Fine, if that's how you're going to be, I'll cook Sunday _and_ Saturday," he sighed, running his hand through his damp silky hair.

"That's it," she laughed with out humor, with a hint of malice in it.

"Yeah," he snapped, "Take it or leave it."

"I'll gratefully leave it," she replied.

"I'll take the extra patrol duty," he bargained on the edge of losing it.

Her eyebrow arched, "very well," she replied calmly.

"Dinners on _you_ tonight," he smirked dropping her hand as if it was infected only seconds of coming in contact with it. She sighed rolling her eyes, "You're unbelievable," she muttered.

"Why thank you," he mocked her, waltzing over to the piano.

She was grateful she had made extra, she thought as she pulled the chicken from the oven and began to mash up the potatoes and heat the corn. She was surprised when lovely notes of a sad song came in the direction of the Grand Piano, and there Malfoy sat in front of it barely looking at the keys his slender fingers pressed against tenderly. She finally scooped the last of the potato divided between the two plates on his plate and placed it in the sink. The music ceased and he turned to face her looking over curiously as to figure out what she had made. She placed the plate on the pine wood table with the silverware. He crossed the room and after taking a bite hesitantly he picked up the plate and without a further word walked up the staircase.

"Hey, where are you going?" she demanded.

"My room," he replied not even looking at her, still moving towards his room.

"What no thank you or anything?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

He turned slightly, "thanks," he shrugged and before she could say anything had shut the door.

She sat down in front of her plate in defeat, "What did you expect he's Malfoy," she thought bitterly stabbing her chicken. She did her patrol duty patrolling the halls in silence, pulling couples out of broom closets and sending them to their respective head and catching pranksters out of bed. His empty plate was with hers in the sink with their glasses. She did the dishes with a flick of her wand wearily and collapsed in bed.

The next morning was the same she had her coffee and went to her classes dutifully after breakfast at which Ron and Harry had apologized and accosted her about her actions yesterday. It was awful having everyone whisper about how she had treated the Malfoy issue at breakfast and the word about her "Draco Malfoy is an utter git" DADA essay. Malfoy appeared indifferent about the whole thing. She was out of her last class when Pansy Parkinson accosted her.

"Draco Malfoy is an utter git, is he?" she demanded her hands placed sassily on her hips.

"Yeah," she shrugged, "what else is new?" and walked off before she could reply.

She walked into the library checked out what she needed and left quickly before anyone could accost her. She pulled out all the ingredients for meatloaf and made more potatoes and began cooking it. She did all her homework in silence while she waited. Malfoy walked in as she drained the potatoes and pulled the meatloaf out of the oven he though his bag. He sat down at the piano and played silently until she was finished and placed the plate on the table. He turned like before and walked over. He picked it up as if he trusted that she wouldn't poison him, and turned to leave. She watched him leave angrily, he closed the door without a simple mention of thanks. She picked at her food bored and finally did the dishes with a flick of her wand and after taking a quick bath she went to bed. She lied in bed for a while tossing and turning she gave up. She went downstairs still wearing an old tight fitting white tee-shirt and black sweatpants that were tighter than she normally would have allowed. She pulled a mug from the shelf and heated the water with a silencing charm placed over the kettle. She picked up _Pride and Prejudice _where it had slumped flat on the counter. She leaned against the counter and rested her head on the cabinet above her, reading on as she waited. The water was soon ready and returning the book to the counter, where it slumped flat once more, she made herself a cup of tea. She sipped it, burning her tongue in her haste to get the warm liquid to lull her to sleep. She cursed herself for having the third cup of coffee, she'd never get any sleep now. Sighing, she placed the empty mug in the sink too tired to wash it and spell it dry and into place. She looked at his door and at the clock. There would be no-one out on his shift, she could slip out of the Castle and take a midnight stroll. Tempted and unable to resist she slid her feet in her black flats and slipped out the door and past Serena who let her go without question. She snuck past arguing Ron and Ginny, the Gryffindor perfects patrolling the fifth corridor without difficulty. She was lucky and ran into no-one else was present as she slipped out the main doors being careful to make them appear locked but really left open. She ran down to the lake not even bothering to go to her spot but just sinking at it's edge. She didn't know why she needed to be here or for what reason. She skipped a smooth stone against the waters edge, her other arm still wrapped around her knee. She watched as the ripples reverberated, the pale wan moon shown above reminding her of her former professor, he'd be a werewolf now –if he was alive—for it was a full moon. She bent her head low.

"Well isn't this something, Miss I-Love-The-Rules just has to break them, doesn't she?" sneered a familiar voice. She was on her feet and had whirled around to face him in a mere matter of seconds.

"Everyone has their flaws," she shot back calmly, "for me it's resisting a third cup of coffee resulting in no sleep, as for being out at this hour—what's _your_ alibi?"

One side of Malfoy's lip tugged upward for a brief moment, so brief she thought she had imagined it, "My _Alibi_," he began sneering as if he doubted the word was the wrong word to use, "is not noticing the time and over patrolling and it's a good thing too, otherwise you may not have been so fortunate to have been caught by _me_."

She laughed without humor, "me-fortunate as to have been caught on school grounds at a late hour by _you_, humor me, Malfoy, but seriously you need to work on your comebacks."

His face was impassive as ever, still leaning against the tree by the lakes edge, "It was Fortunate that I caught you out of bed during curfew hours instead of Professor Lark, the grounds are _his _duty at midnight till two tonight."

Hermione's face, against her will, visibly paled.

"You're lucky I am not handing out three week's worth of detentions," he continued mocking her.

"I believe as co-head, twenty points from Gryffindor, and a warning not to do it again I don't think _attending _the detention tomorrow is what we're supposed to be _supervising_ is such a great idea or example," he sneered, and pushing away from the tree and walking towards her he continued, "as for your sassy little comment on _my _comebacks, I would not say that if I were you for _you _are not in a position to say such things."

"But I said them," she said stepping forward, "When exactly I am I getting the _favor_ returned then? What power do _you _hold over me? You say that I should worry, but quite frankly you haven't given me anything to worry about, you're nothing but a miserable excuse for a fallen former git of a death eater."

"Do not underestimate me," he whispered, his eyes more enraged than she had ever seen them before, "your comments mean nothing you're just a stupid little mudblood."

"Or is that what you're trying to tell yourself?" she spat in his face.

He grabbed her forearms leaning forward so his face was inches from her own she tried to break free struggling in his grasp but he pulled her face towards his captivating her eyes with his, "_Never_."

She stared at his cold eyes, for a minute before he finally let her go, she looked at him for a moment more and turned on her heel and walked quickly but no-where close to running. She angrily washed and put away the mug with a flick of her wand and continued to her room, where she kicked off her shoes and after a few furious fuming minutes finally fell asleep.

The next morning an owl pecking on her window woke her from her dreamless sleep. She groggily got up still exhausted from yesterday's toll, and brushing aside the curtains she unlocked the glass sliding door that led to her balcony and let the white and brown owl fly through. She pulled the rose scented pure white paper from the crisp white envelope bearing her name.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I request you and your co-head's, Mister Malfoy, presence in my office promptly at five o' clock sharp. I trust you two are getting a long splendidly. You need not worry for you are not in trouble of any sorts.  
Gratefully Yours,_

_Minivera McGonagall_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts Witchcraft ad Wizardry_

She turned the neatly scripted page over as if to see if there was more of an explanation. She frowned at the blank pages and placed the note inside her bag. She met Malfoy, already sipping his coffee leaning against the counter lazily, in the kitchen with a grimace.

He returned with a scowl, "I got _this _–this morning," he said in acknowledgement of her presence lifting an identical piece of paper up in the air.

She grabbed it and read it, it was nearly identical to hers, "I got pretty much the same," she said handing it back.

"I love the part where she says she trusts were getting along splendidly," Malfoy laughed without humor.

"I call a truce," she said suddenly without any humor.

"Good one Granger," Malfoy laughed.

"I am serious," she replied.

His smiled slid off his face replaced with a confused look, "what?"

"Well McGonagall expects us to be getting along, I bet she wants to see if we haven't killed each other yet," she said pacing thinking it out logically, "whether she mentions it or not—she'll be expecting it."

"You mean get along, so she doesn't take our positions and kick us back in the overcrowded dormitories," he said, shuddering about the thought of leaving the spacious head dorm.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," she returned, "as much as I hate you I'd prefer to stay here."

"Ditto," he replied.

"Truce," she said holding her hand out, and then as if she remembered something important she started to let it fall to her side.

He grabbed it and shook it quickly, "Truce."

She grabbed her bag and headed out the door, heading towards the great hall and the empty spot next to Ginny at the Gryffindor table.

"Morning," Ginny yawned.

"Morning," She replied.

"I haven't seen you much lately," she commented, shaking the hair out of her eyes.

"I've been busy with Head duties, cooking, homework, ect. I haven't had much free time," she shrugged, and spooned more Egg's Benedict in her mouth.

"I get it, but seriously you should have been there yesterday night while Ron and the boys were trying to cook—they nearly exploded the kitchen, they actually started a fire and everything, McGonagall and the teachers were trying to figure out how to fix everything for like an hour." Ginny laughed, plunging into the story from the beginning dramatically.

Hermione laughed for the first time in days, "so what punishment did they get?"

"Detention tonight," Ginny said shaking her head as they walked out of the hall towards their first class.

"Great, I get to supervise their detention, great," Hermione groaned.

Ginny shot her a sympathetic look and the two parted going to their respective classes. As Five o' clock drew nearer, her stomach furled and unfurled in apprehension. Harry and Ron told their versions of the tale casting themselves more as the damsels in distress than idiots unable to handle cookware, and complained of her lack of visits.

"How's Malfoy?" Harry asked, always the perceptive one.

"Do you even have to ask?" she groaned, "he had a Grand Piano placed in the small sunroom, and now there's like no room to sit. He always complains about my taste in coffee, and he somehow got away with only making dinner on the weekends and an extra patrol duty while I take the normal patrol as well as cooking our dinners Monday through Friday!" she ranted.

"Wow, sounds awful," he replied.

"Well what did you expect he's Malfoy," Ron said with a mouthful of food.

"We did call a truce though," she admitted. Ron dropped his goblet of pumpkin juice.

Harry dropped his fork. And Ginny smiled.

"Excuse me?" Harry said in utter disbelief.

"You WHAT!" Ron shrieked.

"We're pretending that were getting along so we don't mess up the meeting with McGonagall tonight, and lose our positions," Hermione whispered.

"And for goodness sake, stop screaming like an idiot—or a girl for that matter," Ginny smirked saying it loud enough for everyone to hear who'd undoubtedly been listening.

There were a few laughs and realizing that there was nothing but a red faced angry Ron to entertain them, they returned to their meal.

"Wait did you _know_?" Harry said, surprised at Ginny's reaction.

"No, she didn't tell me, I guessed from the way Malfoy hasn't said one word to her at all today or anyone else for that matter, call it a woman's intuition," Ginny said, and frowned at the boy's extremely piled plates.

"What?" Ron said on the point of flinching from her cool gaze, "We didn't really eat last night, and you girls never make enough," he squeaked earning a few well earned glares from all the girls at the Gryffindor table—aside from Hermione who merely laughed because the matter didn't concern her.

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates, the **_**LACK**_** of Reviews really doesn't motivate me to update. I can't even count how many people have me on alerts and favorites but there is like no reviews. This is for those who **_**did**_** review, thanks guys! Sorry that this is a bit of a filler. Please review!**

**~Bella**

**Preview:**

"_From what I've seen you too were both clearly responsible and the best candidates for this year's heads," she began, "although I have heard a few interesting things such as a "Draco Malfoy is an utter git" essay," she continued her eyes sparkling and amused while Hermione blushed, "an outburst in the hall about not being shallow after being provoked by a Lavender Brown," Hermione's face turned redder while Malfoy tried not to laugh, "and a certain backfiring revenge plan."_


	5. Chapter 5

**If I Can't Have You**

**Chapter five In Which McGonagall Gets What She Wants**

McGonagall sat at her new desk; she felt so out of place not worthy to be Headmistress—sitting at his desk, trying to fill his shoes. She knew they were very hard shoes to fill but she _would _fill them, she vowed. She wasn't Dumbledore but she knew how to get people to do what she wanted, by giving them what they wanted and then getting them to get what she wanted in return. She was as sneaky as a vixen, and sometimes she felt guilty about it. Sometimes… but sometimes was quite rare, and in this particular case she felt no regret in wholly handing over the overwhelm job she would have had to done to two very capable hands who would do it quite perfectly. Yes, she wasn't sorry to hand it over and as for feeling guilty—she didn't feel at all so in the slightness. She almost felt giddy getting the load off her back. She knew she'd get what she wanted—she always did.

---

"Enter," called McGonagall's voice. She went to open the door but Malfoy who had appeared behind her just then opened it for her in a gentlemanly fashion.

"Ladies first," he said with fake but for their purpose genuine courtesy his face impassive.

"Thank you," she returned filing past.

"So how is things been going for you two?" McGonagall asked.

"We started out on a rough start but we're on the right foot now," Malfoy said wrapping his arm around her shoulder to prove his point.

Hermione nodded and smiled, playing along. McGonagall smiled encouragingly and after a motion from McGonagall Hermione seated her self in the arm chair.

"From what I've seen you too were both clearly responsible and the best candidates for this year's heads," she began, "although I have heard a few interesting things such as a "Draco Malfoy is an utter git" essay," she continued her eyes sparkling and amused while Hermione blushed, "an outburst in the hall about not being shallow after being provoked by a Lavender Brown," Hermione's face turned redder while Malfoy tried not to laugh, "and a certain backfiring revenge plan."

Hermione looked at McGonagall in confusion, and as the headmistress tried not crack up, and then turned to Malfoy who was looking anywhere but either of them his left hand on the back of head.

"What happened?" Hermione asked unable to contain her curiosity.

"Mister Malfoy, I think since you schemed it and had it followed through I think you should have the honor of telling how it failed," McGonagall said kindly, so ironic to her words.

"To sum it up I paid the new Ravenclaw Heather to get your boyfriend weasel-bee to go out with her," Malfoy drawled angrily, and bored.

"Ronald is not my boyfriend," Hermione interjected.

"Pity, if you're all riled up about that—this plan would have worked splendidly. Well if Heather wasn't such a slut to date two other guys from different houses as well as Ron as her assignment and find out when some one accidentally forgot that he let all four houses get permission for their respective team to use the Quidditch pitch at the same exact time and day. So when she was caught with Weasel bee hanging on her arm by the other two of her boyfriends that just added to the mess of the Quidditch pitch reservation creating world war three. Any questions?" he finished with a sneer.

"Yes, you went through all that trouble to just to get me back for the two incidents that was not my fault. Why?" she all but snapped in a calmly eerie voice.

"I told you, _Granger_, I do not get treated that way and let them get away with it, especially from _you_." He sneered.

"Were back to the whole blood status again are we? When are you going just accept that my blood is no different from yours, we are equals if my knowledge doesn't surpass yours, and the only other difference between the obvious money and flaws is our backgrounds." She replied not taking any of his crap, rising to her feet.

"Right because you're the savior of the world along with Potter and Weasley and I am the death eater—the bad guy," he snapped rising to his feet staring her straight in the eye.

"And when have you shown or proved yourself different Malfoy?" she returned.

He did not answer for a moment looking down for a second and then back at her, "that doesn't matter."

"Ah," she said catching his weakness, "but it does, right or wrong is the only thing that matters not blood-linage. You are on my level."

"I would never condescend to the level of a Mudblood," Malfoy sneered.

"And I would never condescend to the level of a _Malfoy_," She spat, losing it for the first time.

"I should have called you a mudblood earlier, make this game so much more entertaining," Malfoy sneered.

"What game, Malfoy, is that all it is to you a _sick _pathetic game to you?" she said fighting hot angry tears that for some reason began to form in her eyes.

"ENOUGH!" McGonagall interrupted before their wands could be drawn.

It took all of two seconds for the pair to realize they had dropped their façade, and turn to look guiltily at the headmistress.

"Sorry Professor," they mumbled.

McGonagall motioned for them to sit, "You have shown me you are at least capable to hold a civil conversation, and need you to put those capabilities to use. Put childish differences between you two aside and focus on right now. For your next assignment will be hell if you do not, because you're going to spend more than two civil conversations on this project."

"What exactly is this project?" Hermione inquired.

"As you may or may not know the last of the Death Eaters that have escaped or haven't been captured are still ravaging Europe, the schools of Baxabatones and Drumstrang have turned to Hogwarts to ask for a place of refuge and peace for a few months as it is rumored the Death Eaters are roaming around that area as well as another school you are probably not familiar with Stella Academy," McGonagall began.

"Stella Academy, like the one in Italy?" Malfoy inquired in disbelief leaning forward towards her desk in interest.

"Precisely the one, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall replied.

Malfoy leaned back in his seat, "Lovely," he said in an impassive voice in which she could neither tell if it was joy or dread.

"You know about Stella Academy?" She inquired, interested.

"Know," he almost scoffed but caught himself, "know Stella Academy, darling, I almost went to Stella Academy, back when we lived in Italy of course, back when Malfoy Manor's headquarters was in Rome. You know the saying 'All roads lead to Rome' it was dad's favorite, but we only have the best and Hogwarts is the best," Malfoy finished.

"You lived in _Rome_," Hermione stated unable to keep the awe out of her voice.

"I am a Malfoy, Malfoys can do that," he reminded her.

She turned the other way embarrassed, "right," she mumbled.

"Much better, but as I was saying I need you two to plan the whole trip, the first week especially, we'll be holding a ball on the very first Sunday night there, a week from their arrival to celebrate just that. The heads of these schools are only staying for two weeks, before they leave the students here. These two weeks must be perfect, exceptional, beyond amazing… the rest of the months will not be as stiff and formal when they leave but still all students must be on their utmost perfect behavior. I need someone to organize meal choices for the first two weeks before we go back to the normal meals. I need someone to organize, plan, and carry out the Ball. I need someone to take over teaching the traditional dances for the older years; they're giving me a headache. And I need all the floral arrangements to be taken care of as well as sleeping arrangements." McGonagall explained.

"And who is this someone? He seems like what the muggles would call superman," Malfoy said wrinkling his nose at the muggle reference.

"It would actually be two some-bodies, and that would be you two," McGonagall finished.

"You got to be bloody kidding me," Hermione stated in disbelief.

"Are you out of your mind?!?" Malfoy all but screamed at the Headmistress, because of course _Malfoys don't scream_ one of the long unwritten list of Malfoy Don'ts.

"Actually, I am perfectly serious, but if you feel this work is below you, perhaps I should have you hand over your badges and pick two more suited candidates," McGonagall said stiffly, putting the finally piece into place of her genesis "evil" plan.

"NO!" they chorused unintentionally. They stop to look at each other for a moment distastefully before turning back to McGonagall.

"We'll do it," Malfoy replied in a dignified manner redeeming them from their pitiful pathetic state a moment ago.

McGonagall leaned forward, "good."

**A/N: Ha-ha-ha slightly evil McGonagall, what do you think? Well she's not evil but she is giving Hermione and Draco A-LOT of work to do! So what do you think about the direction this is heading??? Sorry if this is a 'filler' chapter, this is the end of the introduction chapters… on with the story! Yay! PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Reviews = Happy Author = Super Quick Update!**

**Oh, and one last thing… of all my fans/readers I cannot even begin to thank you… I am not even kidding I have like 42 un-replied to Story/Author favorite/Alerts. That is just the UN-replied to ones, I get like one or two sometimes four a **_**DAY**_**! You seriously make my day… the only thing that would make it better is more reviews *hint-hint. I am sorry, I am working on the shorter Author notes and more story but somehow they end up long because you give me so much to talk about. REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**~Bella**

**Preview:**

"_Six then," He said leaning on the rail of the staircase leaning forward towards my face._

"_Fine," She returned, unsure why she felt a faint tinge of red creeping unwantedly to her cheeks._

"_The three broomsticks, my corner, my table," he ordered, turning and continuing upstairs._

_Hermione nodded, she knew the spot._

_He reached the top and went to open his door but he turned to face her instead, "Oh and Granger," Draco called._

_She grasped the end of the railing looking up at him, "Yes, Malfoy."_

"_Don't be late," he said with his charismatic air._

_---_

_He slid in the table his hair still wet and still looking like he could shoot a hair gel commercial for "Perfect" hair. _

"_You're Late," she said icily._


	6. Chapter 6 Why does this feel like a date

**If I Can't Have You**

**Chapter six—Why Does This Feel Like a (EW!)…Date**

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Also I would like to address something a reviewer brought up—this story might be similar to a story I may have read ( or that you have read) and I might have accidentally mixed up their ideas and confused them as my own. So if I did—I am really extremely sorry and no credit goes to me. If you are looking for a disclaimer, it's on my profile (the middle of the page—I think). This is going in a totally unexpected direction…(at least I hope you weren't thinking that there would be a mission, a trip to Europe, or Hermione [& possibly Draco] becoming the main hero[s]). Alright, sorry—long author note I know—on with the story.**

"_We'll do it," Malfoy replied in a dignified manner redeeming them from their pitiful pathetic state a moment ago._

_McGonagall leaned forward, "good."_

Hermione chewed her lip unconsciously, her eyes glazed over not actually reading the words that normally that would jump off the page and be stuck in her memory. She was blank and vacant like whenever she was in pensive thought. She held the think leather binder on her lap filled with all sorts of paper work. There was no way they were going to get all of this done. They could barely hold a decent conversation for most of the time mind sake plan two weeks for the heads of the schools, and arrange sleeping arrangements for an additional 300 students. It was… oh she hated the word… but it was nearly impossible. Nothing was impossible was usually something she went by, lived by, a favorite motto. But more recently a lot more things seemed impossible. You can't change the wind you say, it just won't matter anyway, can't rise above this place, can't reach that far… with Malfoy a lot of things seemed… well—Impossible.

The door slammed shut, and the even pace of his footsteps reached her ears. Drawing her from her thoughts as his Quidditch robes swished billowing out behind him as he walked rapidly past her and upstairs. She snapped out of her trance and yanked her head in his direction.

"Malfoy, we need to talk," she called after him.

"About," he prompted not even bothering to turn around.

She rose to her feet, "about the project, I can't do this on my own."

"Wow, Granger admitting you can't do everything," he said bored.

"Malfoy," she warned.

"Alright fine, I'll talk about it—tomorrow it's a Hogsmead trip, right?"

"Yes," she replied reaching the stair case where he had stopped on.

"Six then," He said leaning on the rail of the staircase leaning forward towards her face.

"Fine," She returned, unsure why she felt a faint tinge of red creeping unwantedly to her cheeks.

"The three broomsticks, my corner, my table," he ordered, turning and continuing upstairs.

Hermione nodded, she knew the spot.

He reached the top and went to open his door but he turned to face her instead, "Oh and Granger," Draco called.

She grasped the end of the railing looking up at him, "Yes, Malfoy."

"Don't be late," he said with his charismatic air.

~*~

The trip to Hogsmead was the perfect break that everyone including a slightly reluctant Hermione had to admit, re-acclimating to school was tiresome and everyone was in high spirits to visit the village. The hopes of some were dashed as the sun rose the next morning accompanied by clouds heavy clouds and pouring rain. Yet everyone still climbed aboard the carriages nonetheless after being jabbed a few times by a moody Flitch. Hermione ran into Honeydukes with Harry, Ron, and Ginny to get out of the rain. Of course it was crowded and everyone was pushing and shoving because clearly everyone had-had the same brilliant idea which in fact due to the fact everyone had-had the same idea wasn't so brilliant anymore.

"What do you mean you can't come to Zonko's? You're blowing us off for _Malfoy_!" Ron exclaimed.

Suddenly Hermione was really grateful she had waited till now to tell them in the very crowded shop that she had to meet Malfoy, "It's a project, Head's business, it's not like I _want_ to."

"Where?" Ginny inquired.

"Three Broomsticks," Hermione replied paying for a box of chocolates and a package of sugar quills.

"His corner?" she queried.

"Where else," Hermione replied sarcastically.

"Sounds like a date to me," Harry said rubbing the back of his head.

"It's not, Harry," Hermione replied drawing her hood over her head and pulling her robes tight.

"Dunno if meeting Malfoy's such a great idea, but I trust you, Hermione," Harry sighed.

"Thank you," Hermione replied and left heading across the street to Three Broomsticks. She ignored the pointed stares of the students as she seated herself at his empty table. A blond waitress came over within seconds.

"Yeah, uh—I don't know if you know but uh this is like Draco Malfoy's table—he has it booked for the afternoon," she said.

"I know," Hermione said clearly, aware that everyone was waiting and listening to her response, "He asked me to meet him here on head's business."

The blond shrugged, "fine, but if that's not true—it's your funeral," she replied and walked away-not even bothering to ask if she wanted anything. She glanced at the clock hanging over the bar, he should be here any minute. Any minute now, she thought glancing at the clock which now read 6:05. He's probably just a little late, she allowed glancing at he clock 6:15. It was now 6:30, as she frowned at the clock. Five more minutes or I am gone, she vowed to her self. 6:35 came and went and yet she still sat there. She didn't know why she was still sitting there, why the heck was she waiting for _him_ of all people. And why, why, why did she feel a wave of was that _disappointment_ at the prospect that he might have forgotten? At Precisely 6:45 the door opened and his familiar footsteps sounded the bar.

He slid in the table his hair still wet and still looking like he could shoot a hair gel commercial for "Perfect" hair.

"You're Late," she said icily.

"I know," he replied calmly, as if he had just said hello.

"You know," she continued a bit fiercely.

"Uh-Yeah," he replied, "Why does that matter to you?"

That was a good question; she thought but answered differently, "Because I unlike you, Malfoy actually have something better to do with forty-five minutes."

He sighed and leaned back on the leather padded booth and stared at her for a minute. He leaned forward; his hands clasped together, his elbows on the table. "If I apologize will you just drop it and we can get on with it," he said softly so the bystanders could not hear.

"I thought it was against the Malfoy religion to apologize," Hermione said after a minute, leaning forward.

He leaned closer, and smirked, "Usually, it is but for right now I'll make an exception, I also have better things to do and we have a lot of work ahead of us, so will you accept my offer or not?"  
"It depends on if you mean it," she replied leaning back, and crossing her arms in a very Malfoy-like manner, smiling at him amused.

"I am sorry," he said quickly after making sure no-one was in hearing range, "alright now can we get on to business?"

She sighed and shook her head in mock disapproval, "I guess that's the most I could expect from a Malfoy, so I guess that means yes."

He shook his hand and rolled his eyes and gestured for her to hand over the paperwork. She handed it over reluctantly and the waitress from before came back. She tossed her head and smiled flirtatiously at Malfoy as she took her white notebook and pen out.

"Mr. Malfoy," she greeted, "always a pleasure, I am sorry _this one_," she continued using a distasteful tone as she nodded in Hermione's direction, "insisted on staying something about heads business."

"As you, Shelly, oh don't distress yourself over her, I asked Miss Granger to meet me here," Malfoy replied smoothly, but uninterested as he flipped through the menu.

Shelly looked surprised and shot a glare at Hermione when she thought Malfoy wasn't looking, not yet willing to give up she tried again, "Is there anything I can get _you_ Mr. Malfoy?"

If Hermione was not mistaken there was a double meaning to those words. She choked back the urge to puke. Who would ever want Malfoy that way? I mean pl-ea-se.

Malfoy looked up, "Yes a butterbeer please."

With a fake smile that matched her long fake manicured nails she jotted it down and went to turn away. Hermione stared at the girl in distaste, how rude!

"Oh and Shelly a …" he began.

Shelly turned around hopefully and was disappointed when Malfoy turned to Hermione with an arched eyebrow.

Surprised but thankful nonetheless she muttered a butterbeer, and with a scowl Shelly pranced off looking like a fake and angry model on the runway.

"Thanks," Hermione mumbled looking at the map of the new section of Hogwarts.

Malfoy looked at her for a moment before returning a quiet and soft: you're welcome.

"If we do some expanding charms in all the dormitories we can fit everyone, but McGonagall recommends we have all our people in one or two houses and then pair the others in the remainders," She said getting to business.

"I remember her mentioning that in the meeting, continue," he returned accepting the butterbeer from Shelly without even looking at Shelly his eyes still fixated on Hermione. Shelly was now looking angry as ever as he took a sip, she placed the butterbeer in front of Hermione and all but stomped off.

"As I was saying, we should at least pair two houses with each other and the other two houses with each other depending on how much room we have, for example Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff…" Hermione got no further.

"You mean to put the Slytherins with the Gryffindors together! Are You Insane! _Do you SERIOUSLY want to start World War Thre_e?!?" Malfoy said on the verge of yelling, because of course Malfoy's don't yell.

"McGonagall suggested it, weren't you paying attention? She wants "House Unity" for the time they're here," Hermione returned.

"House Unity," Draco all but snorted, because once again that's on the list of Malfoy Don'ts, "the only thing putting those two houses will create is mischief until they learn to tolerate each other."

Somehow Hermione sensed he wasn't quite talking eternally on the subject of putting the Gryffindors and Slytherins together. "But if they learn to tolerate each other it would be…" she countered and searched for the right word.

"Ideal," Malfoy finished for her.

"Exactly, if they learn to get along they could be great," she continued.

"As if they were already great," Malfoy interjected causally.

"They could be greater," she corrected herself.

"But it would never work," Malfoy said leaning back causally crossing his arms more as a fashion statement than as if he was angry.

She didn't know why that statement hurt her so much; "If you say it will never work then it never _will _work…" she began.

"A self-defeating mission, I know," He cut in, "Honestly Granger, you don't have to dumb yourself down and explain everything, I might look like I would be a person who has no idea what you are talking about because I am as smart as Crabbe and Goyle, but I am actually as intelligent as you, who else did you think get the second highest grades in this school-Potter?"

She bit her lip, "okay I am sorry, but take back that comment about Harry—that was totally unnecessary."

He rolled his eyes, "I take it back, and before you go explain, you're not to actually having intelligent conversations with peers so you forget ect-ect. Can we move on now?"

She opened her mouth and shut it, and finally straightened her papers and jumped back to her point, "as I was saying we need to organize sleeping arrangements, and after I would like to get started on the menus so we can order the food, but anyway we could pair Drumstrang and Stella students together…"

"Put Drumstrang and Baxabatones together, Stella has more students," Malfoy corrected her.

She marked it down on her page of notes in her elegant script, and they continued on.

**A/N: Thank you for all your support! Thanks to all my lovely reviewers and if you put me on fav/or alerts thank you! I would have posted sooner but my internet crashed, anyway--Please review!**

**~Bella**


	7. Chapter 7 Dear Readers

Dear readers,

I'm replacing this story with "Murder" it's too much a like with something I've read, and I can't write it anymore. Please check out Murder. I'm deleting this story in 24 hours.

~Bella


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